


Slow Hands

by 221bshrlocked



Series: Hands [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 15:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bshrlocked/pseuds/221bshrlocked
Summary: You "admire" Bucky's hands.





	Slow Hands

You weren’t sure how this started or when you had this obsession. All you knew was that it was sudden and you could think of nothing else but this. It sort of freaked you out too because in your mind, not many people took notice of such a thing. You tried to hide it and you thought you were doing a pretty good job. But then Natasha started smiling at you and shaking her head every time she walked by you, and you realized you weren’t as subtle. No one else noticed though so you blamed her perceptive nature for finding out your secret.

As long as he didn’t know, you had no problem. Well, that wasn’t true. You had a huge problem, this problem being one beefy as fuck super soldier who was comfortable enough to walk around in short sleeve shirts. You wished you could hate him but it warmed your heart knowing he was getting a little better day by day. But every god damn day was too much at times and you knew it was only a matter of time before others noticed your lingering gazes over the man.

But it wasn’t that you stared at him for too long that was the issue. It was where you constantly looked. No matter what he was doing, your eyes seemed to always admire, yeah that’s the word, admire his hands. You thought it was like any other person you’ve been attracted to before but this was different. It would have made sense if you were staring at his arms. He was a specimen, him and Steve, with their upper body strength and triceps constantly flexing under severe workouts. It’s not like people didn’t notice them you know. Every human, whether or not they are attracted to muscular bodies, find them at least pleasant to look at.

Anyway, the point is, it wasn’t his arms you liked to stare it. It was his hands. And what made it worse was you didn’t prefer one over the other. You just liked looking at both of them. When he was doing a minimal task such as writing in his notebook, you’d take in the blue veins shifting as he applied pressure on the writing tool. You’d notice your breathing pattern shift when he’d drag his wrist across the paper and stop writing, leaving his arms facing to the side and giving you the perfect view of the veins continuing up this arm. Your eyes would ignore the biceps flexing, gaze focusing on his rugged, long fingers tapping at the paper or remaining still as he thought of what to write next. You wished you could touch his fingers and trace the knuckles to his wrist, pulling them to your lips and leaving soft kisses to make him feel better.

But then there were days when you’d want to look at nothing else but his metal hand. You’d watch when he made breakfast or carry something with Steve, the metal plates shifting and creating that lovely whirring noise you’d grown fond of. It was your luck day when you caught him at the gym, lifting god knows what with ease and without breaking a sweat. You’d watch as his metal fingers wrapped over the bars and gripped them tight enough to carry but not too hard to break them. He’d somehow known how much pressure to apply on different textured objects and you’d wondered what it was like if he wrapped those same fingers around your neck as he kissed and licked and bruised every inch of your skin. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the tips of his metal fingers and trace the grooves and plates down to his wrist, telling him how beautiful and complex they were and making sure he understood how amazing he was.

You almost banged your head against the door shelf when Natasha snapped her fingers in front of you, sighing when you spilled your drink and scattered to clean it up quickly.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing. Nothing at all. Why would you ask that? I am perfectly fine. Nothing to ask about here.” You mopped the juice away and chugged down the drink, leaving it in the sink before heading downstairs.

You walked into the lab and immediately regretted it. Bucky was on one of the chairs, smiling and waving at you when he saw you entering.

“Hey doctor, you needed me?” You nodded towards Bucky and tried to ignore your heart wanting to leap out of your chest like a fucking alien from those movies.

“Yeah you’re just in time. I need to fix something in his arm Tony isn’t here.” Bruce motioned for you to walk towards them.

“And you asked me? I’m not sure I’m the best option here. Maybe Nat or Steve would be better i-“

“No you’re helping me. It’s nothing, I just need you to hold this while I work on his inner arm. Come on I don’t have all day.” Bruce brought you around and stood you right next to Bucky. You smiled at him and tried to ignore his cologne but it was impossibly hard to distract yourself from the man who seemed to tower over you even when he was sitting down.

“Sorry Y/N,” Bucky apologized and you wished you could hug him and tell him he had nothing to apologize about and you’d only dreamt of touching his hands from the first moment you say him.

“No biggie.” You chuckled, mentally kicking yourself over the stupid response. You asked Bruce where he needed you to hold and he placed one hand over the wrist while the other remained at the bicep. Bucky shivered when he felt your skin because even though it wasn’t his flesh and blood currently attached to his shoulder, he could still feel sensations from the vibranium endings attached to his nerves. Shuri was brilliant and it scared him how much he sometimes felt his arm when he performed mundane tasks.

He watched as you remained still, his heart fluttering when he noticed you were absolutely fine with touching him and you weren’t put off in the slightest. Bruce got to work and continued to speak to the two of you about some scientific break he had and you tried your hardest to focus on him but you couldn’t, not when your fingers were doing what you’ve wanted to do for so fucking long. So busy on trying to catch up to Bruce, you didn’t notice when Bucky’s fingers closed over your forearm that was right above his palm. Your eye widened and you tapped your feet out of nervousness. The cold of his fingers felt so good wrapped around your skin and you’d gotten flashes of what you were thinking of earlier.

You looked up, only to find Bucky staring right at you, pupils dilated and jaws clenching when you licked your lips. He’d seen your reaction and focused on the increasing heart rate, misunderstanding you and immediately letting go of your arm before looking away. You realized he thought you were probably inconvenienced by this situation and were about to say something when Bruce told you he was finished.

“Thanks Y/N,” Bruce said, lightly pushing you away so he could finish up with Bucky’s arm. You wished Bucky would look at you so you could say something but he found the floor much more interesting. You made your way silently through the hallways, completely ignoring Steve when he’d asked if you’d seen Bucky and groaning at Sam when he tried to talk to you about the movie he watched with Clint.

It was hours later when you walked out of your room and headed to the kitchen for a midnight snack. You wanted to forget what happened earlier desperately but all you remembered were Bucky’s disappointed eyes when you looked at him.

“I detect above-average levels of cortisol in your nervous system Ms. Y/N, do you require assistance with anything?” Friday broke the silence and you hated how aware she was of everyone in this building.

“I am a nervous system Friday.” You laughed at the stupid joke and whispered ‘never mind’ to the AI. “That’s okay Friday, my problem can’t be solved by anyone except the man himself.” You opened the bottle of water and looked for the Oreos Sam always hid from you.

“Perhaps I could request this person’s presence? If it will help.” You started to grow tired from Friday and wished you could just tell her to shut up.

“Oh god no I would die of embarrassment Friday. I’ll get over it soon trust me.” You rummaged through the bottom drawers and sighed in annoyance when you didn’t find them. Remembering where you saw him earlier today, you decided to climb the counter and look at the top shelves you were too short to reach. “Besides, it’s not like I can just ask him to wrap those beautiful metal fingers around my throat as he fucked me into Valhalla now can I? Ahaa…oh ffuck-” You found the Oreos but didn’t see the plastic bag on the counter, already anticipating the pain from the fall.

But you never hit the ground. In fact, you never hit anything. All you knew was that you were currently held against a firm chest with a cold sensation hitting your thighs while a warmer one was wrapped around your waist. You looked up and saw Bucky staring at you like he’d just seen a ghost. You blinked at him and swallowed the lump in your throat, watching as he mirrored your action, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before it returned to its place. It was quiet for a few moments before he placed you down, refusing to move away from you even when you’d thanked him.

He said nothing, not bothering to respond to your nervous rambling. He only stared because he was sure he misheard you. There was no way you’d just said to the fucking AI of all things that you wanted to feel his metal fingers choking you as he fucked you. He had to have been imagining. Right?

You forgot why you were in the kitchen and quickly thanked him before sprinting to your room. As soon as you walked in, you shut the door and crawled under your covers. Now that you knew what both his hands felt like on your skin, you were sure there was no sleep coming anytime soon. You wanted to feel them again. Now. On your flushed body. But that wasn’t going to happen so you did the next best thing. You stripped to nothing and fucked yourself to the thought of Bucky’s hands roaming your body and pinching your nipples and fingering your cunt. You’d screamed your release over and over again, crying into the pillow one orgasm after another.

The problem was, the walls were thin and your next-door neighbor could definitely hear those little sighs and whimpers. Bucky walked to his room and shut the door, repeating what you said over and over again. And when you began touching yourself, he thought he was going crazy. He listened as you pleasured yourself for hours with his name falling from your lips time and again. He looked down at his hands as you begged him for release with whatever hand he wanted to use on you and he genuinely thought he’d died and gone to heaven. You weren’t disgusted by his hand, you were turned on by it. It explained so much: the increasing heart rate, the dilated pupils, the sweaty palms, the nervous tapping, and finally, those ragged breaths he wanted to feel on his cheek.

He went to sleep that night with a smile on his face, already coming up with a plan to drive you crazy until you couldn’t take it anymore. This was going to be fun.

 


End file.
